In this article I shall attempt to review this article. The idea of reviewing the current article is absurd but then also pay attention to the fact that the author is aware of this absurdity. A review is helpful because it helps us understand whether a piece of text deserves to be read or not, without even reading it. This article, on the other hand, destroys into bits and pieces the whole concept. In normal circumstances, a reader will first read the review and might/might not read the actual text, but because this article was founded on clever fundamentals, the writer forces you to put in the extra effort and read an unreviewed piece of text which is exemplary. The result is like a piracy-less world for the software developer, like a cent per cent efficiency thermal engine for the engineer and the likes. Another point to appreciate in the article is the kind of examples provided for clarity. The best part of the article, however, is its ending statement.
This is one of the prettiest houses I have lived in. I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it. I'm sure the construction workers too must have loved this place (and they would term it as Love at first site). But it is now time to say adios.
Lets call my house 1644. 1644 has been with me for 7 months now, providing me with food, shelter and clothes through the kitchen, ceiling and the closets respectively. A deep emotional bonding has set in our minds for each other. 1644 has behaved very very well except for a number of fused bulbs caused by cheap wiring. But overall, it has successfully captured my heart.
I have treated it like my own. I have made sure that everything was in order, that every surface was shining, every line was straight and every bulb was burning, time after time. On many of my idle days, have I spent romantic afternoons vacuuming the floors, rubbing the counters, dusting the mirrors for as you can see I have a cleaning problem. People ridicule my devotion to cleanliness and healthy cooking, and they will always but that doesn't bother me a bit. People are not as good as houses or jeans or iPods.
I have cared for 1644, I have loved it. All of my friends have appreciated it and it has given me all the space to dance around in my room or play the guitar in the kitchen or bellow away in the hall. And with only two days of wonderful quality time remaining, I have started to notice imperfections in the cleanliness of my apartment.
Now comes the big question - Is it logical to clean the apartment before I leave? The management will get it cleaned by a cleaner before a new tenant arrives. I have absolutely no obligation to leave with all the surfaces glittering. I have a tight schedule, but my heart and brain are in a struggle.
Heart: You have lived here, loved here. How can you let your last memories be imperfect! Have you stopped loving your very own 1644?
Brain: Dude! Don't get emotional! It's just a house... They'll clean in anyway
Heart: Stop being foolish and lazy. You cannot betray the house.
Brain: Betray a house? How drunk are you you stupid heart?
Heart: Shut up or I'll beat you up like I beat all the time!
Brain: Then I will get super excited and you will have to work more, you mule!
The heart and brain have, as you can see, many issues. But now what must be done! Should I spend 1-2 hrs cleaning and making the whole place spic n span or should I just leave the job for the cleaning lady and abandon all affection for my pretty pretty place.
Lets call my house 1644. 1644 has been with me for 7 months now, providing me with food, shelter and clothes through the kitchen, ceiling and the closets respectively. A deep emotional bonding has set in our minds for each other. 1644 has behaved very very well except for a number of fused bulbs caused by cheap wiring. But overall, it has successfully captured my heart.
I have treated it like my own. I have made sure that everything was in order, that every surface was shining, every line was straight and every bulb was burning, time after time. On many of my idle days, have I spent romantic afternoons vacuuming the floors, rubbing the counters, dusting the mirrors for as you can see I have a cleaning problem. People ridicule my devotion to cleanliness and healthy cooking, and they will always but that doesn't bother me a bit. People are not as good as houses or jeans or iPods.
I have cared for 1644, I have loved it. All of my friends have appreciated it and it has given me all the space to dance around in my room or play the guitar in the kitchen or bellow away in the hall. And with only two days of wonderful quality time remaining, I have started to notice imperfections in the cleanliness of my apartment.
Now comes the big question - Is it logical to clean the apartment before I leave? The management will get it cleaned by a cleaner before a new tenant arrives. I have absolutely no obligation to leave with all the surfaces glittering. I have a tight schedule, but my heart and brain are in a struggle.
Heart: You have lived here, loved here. How can you let your last memories be imperfect! Have you stopped loving your very own 1644?
Brain: Dude! Don't get emotional! It's just a house... They'll clean in anyway
Heart: Stop being foolish and lazy. You cannot betray the house.
Brain: Betray a house? How drunk are you you stupid heart?
Heart: Shut up or I'll beat you up like I beat all the time!
Brain: Then I will get super excited and you will have to work more, you mule!
The heart and brain have, as you can see, many issues. But now what must be done! Should I spend 1-2 hrs cleaning and making the whole place spic n span or should I just leave the job for the cleaning lady and abandon all affection for my pretty pretty place.
I might be a healthy young lad with a pulse of 45 and low body fat but my right eye is red and I do not know why. As I lay relaxing on my bed, which constitutes most of my day nowadays, I realized that everybody is full of imperfections but more importantly every body is full of imperfections.
Why am I then wasting my time optimizing profit and make rich men richer, when I can be a route to subsiding the pain of the poor. I suddenly realized I need to start a free clinic where I can treat people who can't afford it. And that's just a start. I suddenly envisioned that I could help support other free clinics and hospitals of the sort. Imagine medical care being like primary education - free! That would also assume I'm super-rich so that I can afford to spend like that or I am earning efficiently and putting most of it back into the cause. Oh my god! I'm talking social entrepreneurship. Yes, that's what I want to do. I don't care about being rich and famous if I have an abundance of three basic things in life - food, shelter and clothing. But I do
From the time I graduated until about thirty minutes ago, my plan was to earn a huge sum of money by the time I'm thirty and retire to live on interest. Perfect life. Practice music all this while become a musician of some sort. Suddenly, everything has changed and a medical degree has been added to the scheme of things. I still plan to pursue music but an MBBS is what is attracting me now. My friend warned me a while ago and asked me not think about an MBBS because it is just too much work. I was convinced by him then but I don't think I'll be at peace if I do not follow what this whimsical heart of mine says.
In high school I opted for non-medical because I was scared of biology. Since all my friends were preparing for IIT, so did I. Life has paved the path for me and with little effort I am where I am, though I never thought I deserved it. The thought that people take me for being much smarter and deserving than I actually am, seems very true. And I am sure my life will make way without me worrying or struggling a lot for what I think must be done!
Life might not go as we plan it, but it is still our responsibility to plan it!
Why am I then wasting my time optimizing profit and make rich men richer, when I can be a route to subsiding the pain of the poor. I suddenly realized I need to start a free clinic where I can treat people who can't afford it. And that's just a start. I suddenly envisioned that I could help support other free clinics and hospitals of the sort. Imagine medical care being like primary education - free! That would also assume I'm super-rich so that I can afford to spend like that or I am earning efficiently and putting most of it back into the cause. Oh my god! I'm talking social entrepreneurship. Yes, that's what I want to do. I don't care about being rich and famous if I have an abundance of three basic things in life - food, shelter and clothing. But I do
From the time I graduated until about thirty minutes ago, my plan was to earn a huge sum of money by the time I'm thirty and retire to live on interest. Perfect life. Practice music all this while become a musician of some sort. Suddenly, everything has changed and a medical degree has been added to the scheme of things. I still plan to pursue music but an MBBS is what is attracting me now. My friend warned me a while ago and asked me not think about an MBBS because it is just too much work. I was convinced by him then but I don't think I'll be at peace if I do not follow what this whimsical heart of mine says.
In high school I opted for non-medical because I was scared of biology. Since all my friends were preparing for IIT, so did I. Life has paved the path for me and with little effort I am where I am, though I never thought I deserved it. The thought that people take me for being much smarter and deserving than I actually am, seems very true. And I am sure my life will make way without me worrying or struggling a lot for what I think must be done!
Life might not go as we plan it, but it is still our responsibility to plan it!
Pants or jeans are better then people and one day, occurred a horrific event which I have still not been able to digest completely.
I sat blithely facing my PC when I remembered them; I remembered my pants(jeans), the soft, blue, faded, comfort giving and finger-hole-spangled pair of jeans that I'd been awaiting for the past few days. I hoped I would see it some day folded up cleanly in my almirah, back from the laundry.But that auspicious moment had not yet arrived so I decided to discover the truth behind the situation amiss. So I decided to enquire about the situation and went straight to mom, for she handles this department.
Unaware of the fate, I asked her about the jeans and she refused to tell me where they were. When I demanded the reason it was told to me that the jeans had a finger-hole at a location not considered respectable (the crotch obviously) and they were not fit enough for me to wear. All this reasoning was alien to me and I insisted that the pair of jeans be handed over. But alas, she was the mom, the home minister, the caretaker, the winner. She always had a jaundiced eye for that smooth, soft, pretty piece of cloth because it was the victim of a cute little decent hole (at the knee).
But I wasn't one of those who give up so easily. I harped and carped until the pair was finally brought into our presence from the nether regions it had been deposited in, ready to be given away to the underprivileged.
"Oh this! Only this!", I said looking at the crotch-hole. And then with a smile of relief I uttered,
"This can be stitched without any effort!", for the she knew the magic tailor. The magic tale of the magic tailor is pretty interesting. This guy is so talented he can make irreparably out-of-proportion clothes as perfectly fitting as an underwear. He can stitch huge holes without a trace, he can transform clothes to different sizes so that I can wear my father's shirts and what not. Anyway, back to the story.
"Sorry son. That's not possible. This cannot be stitched. ", and I knew her ulterior motives behind saying that.
"Oh no please! I know it can be", I begged
"Mani, you're not going to wear jeans with holes"
"I like these jeans!", I complained
But she was mercilessly indifferent to my imploring.
"If you wear these again, I'll tear it", she threatened me and slid her finger through the crotch hole of those lovely jeans she hand in her hands showing me the latent power she possessed.
That was it. I was in love with the jeans and my mother did not let me wear them. I was furious! I snatched the pair of dead cloth out of her hand, and with one fierce movement of my hand it rent apart. It felt like suicide and I walked away with a grimace.
Real love is what describes our relation. Such a beautiful piece of cloth; immensely tender and caring. And I tore them with my own hands. I wanted to cry but could not. If you're wondering why I was so caught on up a simple pair of jeans then let me tell you, it takes me months of perseverance and tolerance to endure a new piece of cloth for a long time until it is rendered comfortable enough to be wore. I am then devoid of any misgivings about its behavior throughout the day and I starting love that cloth. And look at fate, just when everything became perfect we were sundered apart!
Inanimate objects elicit love much more easily than people, because they are so predictable, so helpful and selectable. Their inanimateness is their virtue. Take for example a book, one could love a book. You have the fullest opportunity of being yourself, of being off your guard while with a book. Like a lamp, a lamp is lovable. It'll give us light, beautiful peaceful yellow light and demands only a predictable about of power, a nominal amount I say. People are fickle. Don't put the PC in the inanimate category because this devilish piece of plastic and metal is the machinofication of fickleness. Pants are better than people and I lost one.
p.s. this post has no deeper meaning / reference to any other event in my life. It is what it seems to be. (This post occurred in chapaat v2.0 too)
I sat blithely facing my PC when I remembered them; I remembered my pants(jeans), the soft, blue, faded, comfort giving and finger-hole-spangled pair of jeans that I'd been awaiting for the past few days. I hoped I would see it some day folded up cleanly in my almirah, back from the laundry.But that auspicious moment had not yet arrived so I decided to discover the truth behind the situation amiss. So I decided to enquire about the situation and went straight to mom, for she handles this department.
Unaware of the fate, I asked her about the jeans and she refused to tell me where they were. When I demanded the reason it was told to me that the jeans had a finger-hole at a location not considered respectable (the crotch obviously) and they were not fit enough for me to wear. All this reasoning was alien to me and I insisted that the pair of jeans be handed over. But alas, she was the mom, the home minister, the caretaker, the winner. She always had a jaundiced eye for that smooth, soft, pretty piece of cloth because it was the victim of a cute little decent hole (at the knee).
But I wasn't one of those who give up so easily. I harped and carped until the pair was finally brought into our presence from the nether regions it had been deposited in, ready to be given away to the underprivileged.
"Oh this! Only this!", I said looking at the crotch-hole. And then with a smile of relief I uttered,
"This can be stitched without any effort!", for the she knew the magic tailor. The magic tale of the magic tailor is pretty interesting. This guy is so talented he can make irreparably out-of-proportion clothes as perfectly fitting as an underwear. He can stitch huge holes without a trace, he can transform clothes to different sizes so that I can wear my father's shirts and what not. Anyway, back to the story.
"Sorry son. That's not possible. This cannot be stitched. ", and I knew her ulterior motives behind saying that.
"Oh no please! I know it can be", I begged
"Mani, you're not going to wear jeans with holes"
"I like these jeans!", I complained
But she was mercilessly indifferent to my imploring.
"If you wear these again, I'll tear it", she threatened me and slid her finger through the crotch hole of those lovely jeans she hand in her hands showing me the latent power she possessed.
That was it. I was in love with the jeans and my mother did not let me wear them. I was furious! I snatched the pair of dead cloth out of her hand, and with one fierce movement of my hand it rent apart. It felt like suicide and I walked away with a grimace.
Real love is what describes our relation. Such a beautiful piece of cloth; immensely tender and caring. And I tore them with my own hands. I wanted to cry but could not. If you're wondering why I was so caught on up a simple pair of jeans then let me tell you, it takes me months of perseverance and tolerance to endure a new piece of cloth for a long time until it is rendered comfortable enough to be wore. I am then devoid of any misgivings about its behavior throughout the day and I starting love that cloth. And look at fate, just when everything became perfect we were sundered apart!
Inanimate objects elicit love much more easily than people, because they are so predictable, so helpful and selectable. Their inanimateness is their virtue. Take for example a book, one could love a book. You have the fullest opportunity of being yourself, of being off your guard while with a book. Like a lamp, a lamp is lovable. It'll give us light, beautiful peaceful yellow light and demands only a predictable about of power, a nominal amount I say. People are fickle. Don't put the PC in the inanimate category because this devilish piece of plastic and metal is the machinofication of fickleness. Pants are better than people and I lost one.
p.s. this post has no deeper meaning / reference to any other event in my life. It is what it seems to be. (This post occurred in chapaat v2.0 too)
I've heard many say with unshakable conviction that their friends are their lives. But I shall beg to differ, and openly proclaim that friends are for free. I use a vernacular punch line to signify that as important as one might consider friends to be, they ultimately turn out to be insignificant. Jump not to conclusions or opinions as of now but just give this humble heart a chance to express what lies in it.
I beg you to not assume that I consider friends unneeded. They so much are needed! To share one's moments, to have a sense of belonging, to enjoy little joys, to et cetera et cetera; they serve a million purposes. I cannot disagree to that. Only that my contention is that friends are like currency notes and not like money. They are so much needed, and they need me (assuming that I'm the centre of the universe), but how long can one hang on to the same note? You need them but you also need to not need them one day.
We befriend people at work and play. We all have pals and best-friends. We become intimate and personal with people, speak to them as our own. We get them close to ourselves, just to leave them one day. When friends have distances to bear, their friendships behaves in the same way. Which should be observable from common experience. The place a certain personality held in your heart some time ago, has been replaced. I have friends without whom I felt fractional at one moment and now I don't even know, they might be living in Antarctica. People get bored, people get too used to to the same people. Meeting new people is always fun. What does this all suggest? Well.
I have no mind to undermine the close relationships (or superficial ones too for that matter) people possess, but I just intend to say that they are as temporary as a fly sitting on your arm. Bad analogy, I know. It's just because my next post is going to be about flies and other stuff.
Relatives already exist for us but friends are the ones we choose. We hear this all the time. But when desires clash, when interests intersect, when egos, and when material gains gain higher priority, then the connection is weakened. Friends keep coming and going, that too very easily. And I'm sure there'll be one day you'll think not so grandly of your best friend as you do today.
That is perhaps the reasons all friendships grow. The more one gets to know a person, more the vices that are discovered from behind the veil of the smiling sweet face. Disappointment rises and with a pinch, the goodness factor of the relation goes down.
We bind ourselves to others only for ourselves with a completely selfish view in mind. We continue that binding until it gives us joy, or assistance, or pleasure or satisfies some need or desire or whim. As soon as that is fulfilled, the other person is as important as a fly on the arm. Once we start to not get what we expect of the relation, we tend to terminate it. That's the whole, the simple and the plain truth.
Unfortunately, one cannot do without friends, but when friendships rise, so do expectations. The wise say that there are three things a person must have to be termed a fool. First, useless actions; Second, useless speech and finally useless expectations. In a nutshell, it is a sin to expect. For if the by fulfilling your expectation the other one must suffer pain (on a overall calculated basis, done subconsciously) you're going to suffer.
Being mercilessly honest, we're all part of the herd too. I myself suffer from the flaws I impute on others. I make friends for my benefit, for the purposes mentioned earlier. I stay loyal becuase I expect the other one to stay loyal. But since I am the centre of my universe, it's perfectly fine to look down on everybody and assume for some time that I am perfect. I too am a temporary person for other, my friends too will get bored of me and people will forget me too. But the best part is, I forgive them for being so and I forgive them even if they're not able to forgive me. Relations will break and rise, and the best part is that I'm perfectly fine with it because life will go on until one day ofcourse... :D
I do not write this because I have been betrayed by some friend in the recent past (or will be in the recent future). I do not write it because it is time to leave behind friends, family and home. Nothing substantial has happened to trigger this post. It has always been with me. So don't worry "friends" :)
But life is not all that dark. The ray of hope comes from the fact that friendship is not a rarity after all. Speak few kind words to someone and wallah! The other one likes you. That's another friend for you. Spend on currency note, work more and earn more notes. That's the principle of life. One shall always need some money but the notes are to be done with at some point of time.
This may make me sound like a criminal of the 4th degree but here it goes. Go on, break friendships, form new ones just to break or forget them one day. Love your friends but keep in mind that everybody is as evanescent you are, or I am for that matter. Be ready that they're not going to need you one day and you will not need them perhaps. Time has to power to make you forget anything. Life is fair.
I beg you to not assume that I consider friends unneeded. They so much are needed! To share one's moments, to have a sense of belonging, to enjoy little joys, to et cetera et cetera; they serve a million purposes. I cannot disagree to that. Only that my contention is that friends are like currency notes and not like money. They are so much needed, and they need me (assuming that I'm the centre of the universe), but how long can one hang on to the same note? You need them but you also need to not need them one day.
We befriend people at work and play. We all have pals and best-friends. We become intimate and personal with people, speak to them as our own. We get them close to ourselves, just to leave them one day. When friends have distances to bear, their friendships behaves in the same way. Which should be observable from common experience. The place a certain personality held in your heart some time ago, has been replaced. I have friends without whom I felt fractional at one moment and now I don't even know, they might be living in Antarctica. People get bored, people get too used to to the same people. Meeting new people is always fun. What does this all suggest? Well.
I have no mind to undermine the close relationships (or superficial ones too for that matter) people possess, but I just intend to say that they are as temporary as a fly sitting on your arm. Bad analogy, I know. It's just because my next post is going to be about flies and other stuff.
Relatives already exist for us but friends are the ones we choose. We hear this all the time. But when desires clash, when interests intersect, when egos, and when material gains gain higher priority, then the connection is weakened. Friends keep coming and going, that too very easily. And I'm sure there'll be one day you'll think not so grandly of your best friend as you do today.
"Little known, better liked"Myself
That is perhaps the reasons all friendships grow. The more one gets to know a person, more the vices that are discovered from behind the veil of the smiling sweet face. Disappointment rises and with a pinch, the goodness factor of the relation goes down.
We bind ourselves to others only for ourselves with a completely selfish view in mind. We continue that binding until it gives us joy, or assistance, or pleasure or satisfies some need or desire or whim. As soon as that is fulfilled, the other person is as important as a fly on the arm. Once we start to not get what we expect of the relation, we tend to terminate it. That's the whole, the simple and the plain truth.
Unfortunately, one cannot do without friends, but when friendships rise, so do expectations. The wise say that there are three things a person must have to be termed a fool. First, useless actions; Second, useless speech and finally useless expectations. In a nutshell, it is a sin to expect. For if the by fulfilling your expectation the other one must suffer pain (on a overall calculated basis, done subconsciously) you're going to suffer.
Being mercilessly honest, we're all part of the herd too. I myself suffer from the flaws I impute on others. I make friends for my benefit, for the purposes mentioned earlier. I stay loyal becuase I expect the other one to stay loyal. But since I am the centre of my universe, it's perfectly fine to look down on everybody and assume for some time that I am perfect. I too am a temporary person for other, my friends too will get bored of me and people will forget me too. But the best part is, I forgive them for being so and I forgive them even if they're not able to forgive me. Relations will break and rise, and the best part is that I'm perfectly fine with it because life will go on until one day ofcourse... :D
I do not write this because I have been betrayed by some friend in the recent past (or will be in the recent future). I do not write it because it is time to leave behind friends, family and home. Nothing substantial has happened to trigger this post. It has always been with me. So don't worry "friends" :)
But life is not all that dark. The ray of hope comes from the fact that friendship is not a rarity after all. Speak few kind words to someone and wallah! The other one likes you. That's another friend for you. Spend on currency note, work more and earn more notes. That's the principle of life. One shall always need some money but the notes are to be done with at some point of time.
This may make me sound like a criminal of the 4th degree but here it goes. Go on, break friendships, form new ones just to break or forget them one day. Love your friends but keep in mind that everybody is as evanescent you are, or I am for that matter. Be ready that they're not going to need you one day and you will not need them perhaps. Time has to power to make you forget anything. Life is fair.
Ze Labils - I me myself, people, serious
You wouldn't know how it feels to be seventy-and-two, alone, disowned and blind. But Shanti Devi did. Shanti Devi - which meant the goddess of peace - how ironical could things be. Shanti Devi was considered no more than a blind pack of bones by her sons who had asked her to leave 'their' house. She served no purpose and just took up space in the house. She kept crashing everywhere, made irritating noises with her walking stick most of the the time, and spoke no better than babble. Her sons thought her fit to be homeless.
The destitute lady moved slowly with her walking stick unaware of her surroundings. Her eyes had left her long ago and now everyone she had had too.... or maybe she never had them. She had no purpose, no destination. Knowing not where to go, she kept walking slowly, thinking death was her only home, wishing that it devour her as soon as possible. So she kept walking and walking and walking and waited for death.
The world was full of noise, of people shouting, of sirens, of cars, of chats and cries but what was the purpose. People jostled her here and there, someone pushed her, someone stopped her but she kept going steady, apathetic. Death is the ultimate end. Death is the final outcome. Nothing could penetrate her ears now. She had to just keep walking. An uproar happened and a horn blared loudly but did she care? Did she care that on the busy day hundreds of people were restrained by the policemen who waited to go to their desinations? Did she care that she was in the middle of a road which had been cleared for the President's cavalcade which traveled at almost double the speed of normal traffic? Did she care that the first car of the cavalcade was about to crash into her? Perhaps not. But Bhanu Prasad cared. His valor pushed him forward, out of the crowd to be held by the hand by a policeman. He pushed the policeman and ran forward towards the old lady as fast as he possibly could. He pushed her aside just before the braking limo hit him at speed of light. Bhanu Prasad died there and then.
Shanti Devi's emaciated body got a push so hard, she flew and landed onto the footpath and rolled over to the next street on the downsloped road. The policeman Bhanu Prasad had pushed lost his balance, tripped and fell head first into an open manhole. The car in the procession braked so hard, it toppled over, took a few and crashed into the public which had been stopped by the policemen. The rest of the cars crashed into first car and the whole cavalcade was obliterated by an explosion which resulted from the combustion of the leaking fuel from one of the cars. All of the people, including the president died from the explosion. The people who were left alive to witness the explosion ran with all their might, resulting in a stampede and killing many more. Yasaf ali, a suicide bomber whose mission was to kill the president thought he would now have to save his life for another heaven-worthy task. But he was also killed in the stampede and the burdensome weight of people's legs could not be endured by the bomb.
In a matter of 20 seconds, all that was left was Shanti Devi - bleeding from the head, unaware of what happened, in agony and now in pain. But did she care? Perhaps not. She began to walk again and and started to wait again.
The destitute lady moved slowly with her walking stick unaware of her surroundings. Her eyes had left her long ago and now everyone she had had too.... or maybe she never had them. She had no purpose, no destination. Knowing not where to go, she kept walking slowly, thinking death was her only home, wishing that it devour her as soon as possible. So she kept walking and walking and walking and waited for death.
The world was full of noise, of people shouting, of sirens, of cars, of chats and cries but what was the purpose. People jostled her here and there, someone pushed her, someone stopped her but she kept going steady, apathetic. Death is the ultimate end. Death is the final outcome. Nothing could penetrate her ears now. She had to just keep walking. An uproar happened and a horn blared loudly but did she care? Did she care that on the busy day hundreds of people were restrained by the policemen who waited to go to their desinations? Did she care that she was in the middle of a road which had been cleared for the President's cavalcade which traveled at almost double the speed of normal traffic? Did she care that the first car of the cavalcade was about to crash into her? Perhaps not. But Bhanu Prasad cared. His valor pushed him forward, out of the crowd to be held by the hand by a policeman. He pushed the policeman and ran forward towards the old lady as fast as he possibly could. He pushed her aside just before the braking limo hit him at speed of light. Bhanu Prasad died there and then.
Shanti Devi's emaciated body got a push so hard, she flew and landed onto the footpath and rolled over to the next street on the downsloped road. The policeman Bhanu Prasad had pushed lost his balance, tripped and fell head first into an open manhole. The car in the procession braked so hard, it toppled over, took a few and crashed into the public which had been stopped by the policemen. The rest of the cars crashed into first car and the whole cavalcade was obliterated by an explosion which resulted from the combustion of the leaking fuel from one of the cars. All of the people, including the president died from the explosion. The people who were left alive to witness the explosion ran with all their might, resulting in a stampede and killing many more. Yasaf ali, a suicide bomber whose mission was to kill the president thought he would now have to save his life for another heaven-worthy task. But he was also killed in the stampede and the burdensome weight of people's legs could not be endured by the bomb.
In a matter of 20 seconds, all that was left was Shanti Devi - bleeding from the head, unaware of what happened, in agony and now in pain. But did she care? Perhaps not. She began to walk again and and started to wait again.
This is a selfish post. But I'm sure what applies to me, applies to all.
Three days is what it takes.
The bad thing about memory is that it is short term but the good thing about memory is that it is short term. And this bodes well. My four-year ten-year (tenure) at Eye Eye Tea is about to end and that manifest itself in sudden change from Yo Insti! to No Insti.
There is the good part of it. No more friends trying break one's privacy apart, no more boring lectures from Indian profs. No more useless presentations and hopefully no more fraud. But then since every coin has two faces (yes coins are a proper subset of monsters) the bad part will be, no friends, no lectures, no worthless presentations and no more fraud. No wait, there's more. No more WindT and no more lunching around and no more idle time wasted in hostels and no more many things.
But then the bad part too has a good part and a bad part. So the bad bad part is, it pains, all of it. It hurts because one is so used to all this that such a big change is as tough as giving birth to a cow. But then the good bad part is that the pain lasts only three days.
As a result of innumerable deep and brain-wrecking scientific and social experiments, I have come to the conclusion that within a span of 72 earthly hours, the magnitude of such pain reduces to such a small extent, it is barely noticed (which means I notice it only when I'm having a bath). In a nutshell, I forget stuff in three days. All associations, dissociations, medications etc etc are out of my mind by this time. Which is incredibly nice to hear.
Earlier I had plans getting into arguments and clashes with all my friends, so that I may hate them and separate more easily. But how could I fight with the physical location which I am so fond of? And how do I eradicate all memories that rest in my head. Fighting will help me rid of only people. But that, perhaps, does not seem necessary right now. All I'll prepare myself is for those three days of agony - which is, to practically speak, nothing. Therefore, I shall depart in all peace and calmness with a smiling face. For I shall know that after three days I shalln't miss a thing!
As for location, I will certainly find an equally beautiful location at the place I go. And as for people, let me quote one of my wise friends.
"Ache log to har jagah hee hote hai yar" (There's good people everywhere my friend).
I will forget them, they will forget me, eventually. And I will find new friends to forget them one day too. And then there are some things I love, which will certainly stay with me such as iPod, jeans, guitar and myself. Which too can be renewed upon requirement.
Make and break - The stern rule of nature which binds everyone. Sounds depressing but it feels good to know that all pleasure and pain must end one day. But let me leave the pondering for later and rejoice because..
Three days is what it takes.
Three days is what it takes.
The bad thing about memory is that it is short term but the good thing about memory is that it is short term. And this bodes well. My four-year ten-year (tenure) at Eye Eye Tea is about to end and that manifest itself in sudden change from Yo Insti! to No Insti.
There is the good part of it. No more friends trying break one's privacy apart, no more boring lectures from Indian profs. No more useless presentations and hopefully no more fraud. But then since every coin has two faces (yes coins are a proper subset of monsters) the bad part will be, no friends, no lectures, no worthless presentations and no more fraud. No wait, there's more. No more WindT and no more lunching around and no more idle time wasted in hostels and no more many things.
But then the bad part too has a good part and a bad part. So the bad bad part is, it pains, all of it. It hurts because one is so used to all this that such a big change is as tough as giving birth to a cow. But then the good bad part is that the pain lasts only three days.
As a result of innumerable deep and brain-wrecking scientific and social experiments, I have come to the conclusion that within a span of 72 earthly hours, the magnitude of such pain reduces to such a small extent, it is barely noticed (which means I notice it only when I'm having a bath). In a nutshell, I forget stuff in three days. All associations, dissociations, medications etc etc are out of my mind by this time. Which is incredibly nice to hear.
Earlier I had plans getting into arguments and clashes with all my friends, so that I may hate them and separate more easily. But how could I fight with the physical location which I am so fond of? And how do I eradicate all memories that rest in my head. Fighting will help me rid of only people. But that, perhaps, does not seem necessary right now. All I'll prepare myself is for those three days of agony - which is, to practically speak, nothing. Therefore, I shall depart in all peace and calmness with a smiling face. For I shall know that after three days I shalln't miss a thing!
As for location, I will certainly find an equally beautiful location at the place I go. And as for people, let me quote one of my wise friends.
"Ache log to har jagah hee hote hai yar" (There's good people everywhere my friend).
I will forget them, they will forget me, eventually. And I will find new friends to forget them one day too. And then there are some things I love, which will certainly stay with me such as iPod, jeans, guitar and myself. Which too can be renewed upon requirement.
Make and break - The stern rule of nature which binds everyone. Sounds depressing but it feels good to know that all pleasure and pain must end one day. But let me leave the pondering for later and rejoice because..
Three days is what it takes.
Ze Labils - I me myself
ABC of me
A
for the anda
- Age: Jaise ladkiyo se nahi puchhte unki wages,
Ladko se bhi na poocho, ai zaalim, unki ages...
- Animal: Only if I was 10 feet taller, I'd bloody resemble a giraffe. Ummm you could say I'm a short giraffe!
- Anger: Only when someone takes my hanger! Na na, Just kiddin'. You don't even need to do that.
- Alcohol: Methanol, Ethanol, Propanol etc etc! Dekha I know it alls!
B
for the banda
-Birthday: I don't believe in birthdays!
-Believe in yourself?: Naaa!! I'm just a myth!
-Been in love: I thought only humans 'fell' in love. Never knew beans suffered the same disorder.
-Best weather: Arre this damn weather. Ok, a poem for weather on this very note. (Not the currency wala note you greedy pig)
Whether oh weather,
Whether you weather,
My love for you O weather,
Like shoes of hard leather,
Shall never ever weather.
-Believe in miracles: Toone meri beliefs ka thheka le rakha hai be.
-Believe in God: Only.
-Believe in Santa: Nopes. I think banta's the better guy.
C
for samundra
- Colour: Bloody racist! Hum bharateey hain. No color caste creed sex etc matters.! Oops.. maybe sex does (Dirty mind)..
- Chocolate/Vanilla: Vanilla khaayein mere dushman! Woh to sasti hoti hai!
- Coffee: Bas ab caaffee ho gayi. Summer's here dudes!
- Chinese/Italian: None! What do you take me for? A Cannibal!
- Cake or pie: Dude! Comparing cake and pie is like .. like.. comparing pie and cake man! I mean there's no comparison. Don't ask ze foolish questions.
- Cooking: Do I look like a pressure cooker. Well, I've been wondering. If a cook cooks food, what does a pressure cooker cook? Pressure? Hey wait wait wait.. Do you mean there's a pressure cooker inside our stomachs!?
D
for danda
- Day or Night: As far as I think both exist. Where is the point of conflict ?
- Danced: Apahij
- Dance in the rain?: Oh my gawd! My delicate clothes shall get wet! Don't dare think on such preposterous lines.
- Drugs: Love em! But couldn't ever have um. It all started when I went to a drug store once and I found only medicines! In my mind I thought 'Weird' and then I said 'Weird'.
E
for imli
- Everyone has a: desire for mani.. Oops I mean money!
- Eyes: None. I'm deaf, dumb and blind. This is a braille keyboard. Hello braille keyboard.
F
for funda
- Full name: Konse full ka naam batau? Gulab? Chameli? Champa? Sab pata hai mujhe, sab aata hai.
- First crush: Kala Khatta! Juhu beach.
- First thoughts waking up: What is the purpose of this life? Who am I? What am I for? What is this 'I'? How did I come into existance? Is all this real? Why am I thinking all this? How shall I answer these questions? Is this the right question? Do I like asking questions?
G
for ganda
- Greatest Fear: Fear
- Greatest Strenght: Chapaaaaat padega to samajh ayega
H
for hottori honzo! (ref: Kill Bill)
- Hair Colour: Depends. Which hair.
- Hate: to Hate.
I
for india
- Interests: Loan dene ke interest charge karta hu. Only 2.5% pa. Click here to apply now.
- Insanity: Perfect insan. Madad karna, ache karam karna, daan dena, vidya lena, pooja karna, satya uchaarna. Aur kya karega insan.
- Impulsive: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
J
for jhanda
- Job: Jobless.
K
for kaanda (pyaaz)
- Kids: 31.19 (All secret)
L
for ladaku vimaan
- Letter: Letter pe sher arz kiya hai...
Jinke dil mil jaate hain weh khat nahi likhte,
Jinke dil mil jaate hain weh khat nahi likhte,
Ab to e-mail ka zamana hai.
- Love:
To fall in love is in vain,
for he that falls into it fain,
shall roil away,
in dust and pain.
M
for manda (for example dhanda manda)
- Moron: Yeah. Abhi kam on hai. More on karo! Light bhi on karo. Fan bhi on karo. AC bhi on karo. Sab kuch on karo! Moron!
N
for nanda (mere dost naam)
- Naughty: In what sense? ;) Naughty!
- Number of Siblings: 998102832, 9919248134
O
for onda (bengali anda)
- One wish: To have no more wishes. Oops I mean nau more wishes!
P
for panda
- Place: Omnipresent.
- Princess: Dude! The word is princesses!
- Prince: Prince detergent tikia aur powder ka zabardast fan!
- Pizza: There are only 2 kinds of pizzas in the world. Cheese pizzas and the rest. Thank you.
Q
for kyu?
- Questionnaires: Questionnaires?
R
- Reason to cry: Anything! But only khushi ke aasoon.
- Reason to smile: Anything! But only khushi ke aasoon.
- Reason to laugh: Anything! But only khushi ke aasoon.
S
- Shoe size: kyun? joote gift dega kya ? Nike Please! US 10
- Smoked?: Cant even touch yaar!
- Sing well?: Ubharta sitaara!
- Single: Jaan kya kare hai?
- Stuffed Animals?: exist only for people with stuffed brains
T
- TV: I dont watch them TV. Them TV watch me!
- Tatoo: for gadhe ke tattoos
U
Umbrella: Nopes. Umbrella karna paap hai.
V
Vanity: In vain.
W
Weakness: You're talking about weakness!!! I feel monthness!
X
X-factor: X-factor? Like X-PM or X-gf ? Kya? 3.424 ? Kya?
Y
Y-factor: Abe yeh blog hai ya equation set?
Z
Zodiac sign: Aquaaaaaa... *dead*
Ze Labils - humor, I me myself
I turn around to grasp your neck,
to fill the air and strum you on,
to suffuse the mind with aural gleam,
And I turn around to find you gone.
I recall the days of splendid sounds,
the notes and tones and beats you spawn,
Then I feel that it was all a dream,
And I turn around to find you gone.
The pick is lonely, the mic dejected,
My throat, in memory, does only mourn,
I sing alone your sweet refrain,
And I turn around to find you gone.
The air is bland, my life is chilling,
all music, sans you, is traffic horn,
I miss your sonorous voice in pain,
And I turn around to find you gone.
Ze Labils - humor, I me myself
With a stroke of mighty luck, while typing in the most-typed word on my computer, I erred. To err is human and to forgive divine and thinking of the same lines, I forgave myself as easily as I can gobble up a Tuna Sub! But the mystery is already broken, the secret has already leaked. I typed in googe.com instead of google.com and like somebody discovered polythene as a laboratory mistake, I too discovered a nondescript writer whose splendid words met my heart with utter delight and I could not but disagree with this savory poem.
"Give money me, take friendship who so list,
For friends are gone come once adversity,
When money yet remaineth safe in chest,
That quickly can thee bring from misery.
Fair faces show friends when riches do abound;
Come time of proof, farewell, they must away;
Believe me well, they are not to be found
If God but send thee once a lowering day.
Gold never starts aside, but in distress,
Finds ways enough to ease thine heaviness."
Barnaby Googe (1540-1594)
And inspiration greeted me with a lovely surprise and yielded this small piece.
"When joys abound and in times green,
they drift along even paths unseen,
And make their way with subtle faces,
And come to inquire how I have been.
As shall arrive the moment of distress,
Then I'm in need of a severe redress,
And those who comfort only at comfort top,
Forsake me so, like a greedy mistress.
Then no gold no money no riches allay,
the pain I bear, of being left this way,
I ask then neither of them nor gold,
I ask of nothing, for all shall betray."
Kaala Kavva (1986 - God Knows)
The Big Bang transpired, the suns broke down, the earth cooled, algae and bacteria mated and humans happened. But the topic of discussion is much more intense and complex that the simple aforementioned lineage. After humans came to be they discovered that they were the possessors of two spherical great camera-like instruments fit right (and left) on their faces and their using these two very complex contraptions they could "see" what was supposed to be seen and what was not.
Keep the fact well with yourself that in the days that I talk of clothes were not much in fashion and humanity roamed in its birthday suit. What was supposed to be seen is not interesting enough to be discussed, hence has been abandoned, but seeing what was not supposed to be seen entailed major consequences. For example the amount of attachment attached to the utility of the contraption grew in exponential proportions, so much so, it came to be known as the person himself, or the "I". (Later as renamed Eye to avoid ambiguity).
Vision was a spectacular sensation only because it could show the homosapiens race what it was not supposed to see. But exercising the spectacular faculties, most people ended up either being extremely excited or developed a great sense of inferiority complex (depending on "what" they saw) and the eye became the bane of mankind for turned men either into rampant hooligans or dismayed outcasts (again depending on "what" they saw).
To remove the eye was an option but now the greedy man got attached to the portion which was not what was not supposed to be seen, in other words, the boring part would do. To remove the eye demanded an infinite deal of effort, time and pain and therefore what came into existence being borne out of the innovation of man was called The Brief.
The brief was what humanity needed - a mask for the mask-worthy, a cover for the lowers, a ban for the man - and the brief was what it got. In its earliest forms, it was known as "Brief of the Leaf" owing to the material it was made of. The brief since then has achieved infinite popularity owing to its novelty and application. But what is popular is desired. There have been various reports of masked phantom-like structures, who were nothing more than giants of greed and egotism, who raided innocent brief clad men (and women) and took away their brief to glory packing them in their rectangular cases later known as briefcases. Due to the non-existence of police and courts at the archaic time I talk of, the poor people who had spent the lives' earnings on acquiring briefs, could do nothing but mourn the loss of the briefs. This state came to be known as "bereafement".
The brief has been endorsed by millions of celebrities in each and every age. But the generation that now consumes alcohol in dinner party (with a few exceptions such as I), this generation of ours, has forgotten all the wonders of the brief. It is worn not as a symbol of integrity, rectitude, and honor but out of compulsion and disagreement. Radical species have always been present amongst us who will forsake the tightening of their pants to honor the existence of the Brief. The brief has been honored by all superhero-creators who to the concealed embarrassment of superheroes will insist on them wearing their briefs outside and show the age of today what significance the common Brief held amongst their ancestors. Thus it is our moral and cultural duty to regard the Brief and wear it openly and maintain our honor.
Keep the fact well with yourself that in the days that I talk of clothes were not much in fashion and humanity roamed in its birthday suit. What was supposed to be seen is not interesting enough to be discussed, hence has been abandoned, but seeing what was not supposed to be seen entailed major consequences. For example the amount of attachment attached to the utility of the contraption grew in exponential proportions, so much so, it came to be known as the person himself, or the "I". (Later as renamed Eye to avoid ambiguity).
Vision was a spectacular sensation only because it could show the homosapiens race what it was not supposed to see. But exercising the spectacular faculties, most people ended up either being extremely excited or developed a great sense of inferiority complex (depending on "what" they saw) and the eye became the bane of mankind for turned men either into rampant hooligans or dismayed outcasts (again depending on "what" they saw).
To remove the eye was an option but now the greedy man got attached to the portion which was not what was not supposed to be seen, in other words, the boring part would do. To remove the eye demanded an infinite deal of effort, time and pain and therefore what came into existence being borne out of the innovation of man was called The Brief.
The brief was what humanity needed - a mask for the mask-worthy, a cover for the lowers, a ban for the man - and the brief was what it got. In its earliest forms, it was known as "Brief of the Leaf" owing to the material it was made of. The brief since then has achieved infinite popularity owing to its novelty and application. But what is popular is desired. There have been various reports of masked phantom-like structures, who were nothing more than giants of greed and egotism, who raided innocent brief clad men (and women) and took away their brief to glory packing them in their rectangular cases later known as briefcases. Due to the non-existence of police and courts at the archaic time I talk of, the poor people who had spent the lives' earnings on acquiring briefs, could do nothing but mourn the loss of the briefs. This state came to be known as "bereafement".
The brief has been endorsed by millions of celebrities in each and every age. But the generation that now consumes alcohol in dinner party (with a few exceptions such as I), this generation of ours, has forgotten all the wonders of the brief. It is worn not as a symbol of integrity, rectitude, and honor but out of compulsion and disagreement. Radical species have always been present amongst us who will forsake the tightening of their pants to honor the existence of the Brief. The brief has been honored by all superhero-creators who to the concealed embarrassment of superheroes will insist on them wearing their briefs outside and show the age of today what significance the common Brief held amongst their ancestors. Thus it is our moral and cultural duty to regard the Brief and wear it openly and maintain our honor.
I feel old. Not in terms of but age in terms of time you wisecrack. Ah by the way, this post shall stink of narcissism and shall not tire describing the most describable personality, that is ofcourse, I. So flee while you can or I shall inextricably intertwine your thought in this muck of emotions and uncanny zeal that I so possess.
Coming back- by feeling old, I mean to say, I feel like I felt three point two four one five one eight approximately years ago. (Writing numerals seems 2 indecent for my blog). The same old indifference, the blithe mindset, the carefree demeanor, the thoughtless expression; all my good friends are back. The dear old feeling of being dispassionate, of believing that friends are for free, knowing life is fair, enjoying pain as deserved, the joy in one's own pain, the ability to let go; all my beloved companions are with me now. Left me due to misunderstandings bottomless, they now have made their way back.
What disturbs me and delights me, eccentrically enough, is my idiosyncratic characteristic of infinite changes of the mind within infinitesimal time. Didn't get that right? You weren't supposed to either. All I'm trying to say is that it takes just a moment, that sudden moment, when that sudden thought arises and my mind drenched completely in one emotion is completely lifted out of it. What thought? I don't know. But all I know is there is such a savior thought always that levitates my pained self out of the agony, and oddly enough, the thought is never, as a rule, spawned by any event. Only after moments of introspection, at a time unheralded, it makes way into me. Before that sudden transition of the mind, I keep grieving and worrying. But after that sudden moment, which comes unannounced, I am the happiest person on earth and that period lasts long until the stones of time and events knock me down again into the seas of depression.
But this very time, I feel the phase has gone for good. How it happened this very time, is another story in itself. It should have been the twenty-fifth of July, year two thousand and seven that I, suffering from causes innumerable, decided to follow the ideals that have always been floating around in my head, acquired by study, discussion(thanks to some people), introspection and the uncommon common sense. Commend my innovation (or condemn my folly) for I wrote them not on paper but on my Orkut's About Me. And each time, I the narcissist viewed my orkut profile, I would read and repeat and understand the simple English statements written by myself and then came the auspicious moment.
And since then I have been balanced, poised and in peace. I live in peace. I care of none and yet I care of all. I am at peace with myself, at peace with boredom, at peace with insults (need some more work although), and at peace with every piece of the this world. See me and realize that I am just the same as I was before, the same attitude, the same air, the same lightheartedness, but a bit wiser. But this is not the end. For the benefit of the ones, like I, whom friends too have given up in their agitation, I commemorated those mightily helpful lines on WikiHow.(http://wikihow.com/Be-Indifferent). Although I haven't yet received hundreds of thousands of I'm-a-die-hard-fan-of-yours and oh-will-you-marry-me-please emails each day, I feel some or the other poor, destitute, forlorn fellow must have benefited by my modest, selfless and altruistic effort. Oh! I'm so modest, I'm proud of myself! (Please appreciate my modesty, won'ts you?)
Coming back- by feeling old, I mean to say, I feel like I felt three point two four one five one eight approximately years ago. (Writing numerals seems 2 indecent for my blog). The same old indifference, the blithe mindset, the carefree demeanor, the thoughtless expression; all my good friends are back. The dear old feeling of being dispassionate, of believing that friends are for free, knowing life is fair, enjoying pain as deserved, the joy in one's own pain, the ability to let go; all my beloved companions are with me now. Left me due to misunderstandings bottomless, they now have made their way back.
What disturbs me and delights me, eccentrically enough, is my idiosyncratic characteristic of infinite changes of the mind within infinitesimal time. Didn't get that right? You weren't supposed to either. All I'm trying to say is that it takes just a moment, that sudden moment, when that sudden thought arises and my mind drenched completely in one emotion is completely lifted out of it. What thought? I don't know. But all I know is there is such a savior thought always that levitates my pained self out of the agony, and oddly enough, the thought is never, as a rule, spawned by any event. Only after moments of introspection, at a time unheralded, it makes way into me. Before that sudden transition of the mind, I keep grieving and worrying. But after that sudden moment, which comes unannounced, I am the happiest person on earth and that period lasts long until the stones of time and events knock me down again into the seas of depression.
But this very time, I feel the phase has gone for good. How it happened this very time, is another story in itself. It should have been the twenty-fifth of July, year two thousand and seven that I, suffering from causes innumerable, decided to follow the ideals that have always been floating around in my head, acquired by study, discussion(thanks to some people), introspection and the uncommon common sense. Commend my innovation (or condemn my folly) for I wrote them not on paper but on my Orkut's About Me. And each time, I the narcissist viewed my orkut profile, I would read and repeat and understand the simple English statements written by myself and then came the auspicious moment.
And since then I have been balanced, poised and in peace. I live in peace. I care of none and yet I care of all. I am at peace with myself, at peace with boredom, at peace with insults (need some more work although), and at peace with every piece of the this world. See me and realize that I am just the same as I was before, the same attitude, the same air, the same lightheartedness, but a bit wiser. But this is not the end. For the benefit of the ones, like I, whom friends too have given up in their agitation, I commemorated those mightily helpful lines on WikiHow.(http://wikihow.com/Be-Indifferent). Although I haven't yet received hundreds of thousands of I'm-a-die-hard-fan-of-yours and oh-will-you-marry-me-please emails each day, I feel some or the other poor, destitute, forlorn fellow must have benefited by my modest, selfless and altruistic effort. Oh! I'm so modest, I'm proud of myself! (Please appreciate my modesty, won'ts you?)
Ze Labils - I me myself
I speak of the past. Since when millions of clock-hands have been accomplices in the escape of so great a desperado, time, who engenders and devours, without mercy. Of that past, let me now relate with great ardor, the story of a great Princess: The greatest, bravest and the wisest to keep foot on the sole of leather; reverend, charismatic and dynamic Popli.
I speak of the past. When dwelt giants, elves, sorcerers, spirits, monsters and the like, out in the open, to the common knowledge of the dullest race seen by the sun: mankind. And then ruled Popli with all her might, and all her wisdom, and commanded the lands, and the people, and everything except that, and the trees and the heavens and everything except that, that I can't tell in this hurry. She wielded her sword with such passion and fury, everything came to shudder and even lightning couldn't match her glory. And then she did the justice, she was the police and she was jury. Of Popli's descent, this is the story.
Popli had conquered innumerable lands and enough seas fit for a million giants to bathe for millions of years. She, through her valor and her invincible arm, crushed armies as strong as mountains and bought man and beast to her feet. But the vicissitudes of life show one's eyes what no magical eye has ever descried. It was during the war of Tyreelnioutrs that whilst Popli chopped off the head of several thousand giants, for it were the race of the giants she fought against now; it so happened that she incurred a wound on her arm and that very lesion lost her more blood than she could have well imagined, causing her to flee. As a temporary refuge she considered a small cave nearby the battle-ground and went inside to mend her broken flesh.
By the ill-fortune that the heavens had promised her, that happened to be the abode of the grim, vile and unfriendly Hondoleen. Hondoleen was as special as the visitor in his cave, for he was not just a sorcerer but the king of kings of sorcerers whose powers outstripped any creature within three galaxies of his existence. And power breeds evil so Hondoleen's wicked ways were known in the fourteen worlds. He sat in deep meditation but was stirred by some noise and smell of blood. As he lifted his sinister eyelids, light set forth his eyes the greatest Princess to be seen. Why O lowly creature dos't thou chooses't to perturb me with thy disdainful presence in my solitary dwelling, exclaimed Holdoleen with rage at being disturbed. But might one be the greatest sorcerer or deadliest knight on the face of the earth, one had no business of abusing the honor of so great a princess such as Popli. Her bloody sword swished out of her scabbard and her blood boiled with rage as she cry'd, Thou art a fool to talk such to me O base mortal and brandished her sword in front of his sullen face.
Seeing this offensive act Hondoleen got so slighted that he resolved to use his most powerful and complicated sorcery against Popli. O wretched princess, thou prides't thyself with all your atchievements. Now see what thou shalt suffer, bellowed Hondoleen and with the cast of a wicked spell, Popli broke all abetting clock-hands, left all of them behind, and found herself standing in the middle of Ring Road, with her wounded arm, and her sword as sharp as sharp can be, stained with blood of a thousand giants, and a million eyes set on her, and innumerable small crawling creatures without feet but wheels bellowing unpleasant noises and strangely dressed men screaming out of the creatures' heads. Popli was terrified and froze with fear. See the play of fate, she who had been cross with fear since her childhood was seized by pangs of it now for she was completely ignorant of her surroundings.
Hondoleen had been mighty successful. He had sent her to the 21st century where she knew no one and none knew her heroic endeavours. From the time of the innocent giants, she had been thrown into the age of cruel humanity. Put into an asylum for speaking the truth, Popli learned the new ways of the world around her. It indeed took her time to know and understand what had been done to her, but now everything is normal. But her valor needed space to vent.
She changed her name to Peepo for Popli sounded very weird, and lives quietly a fake life of a normal human. But sets out on errants from time to time, secretly, with the help of her sword (and a Magnum FF5i she has acquired) to save the face of the earth from miscreants, ill-doers, giants and other wretched entities. Though no one knows of her virtuous deeds except some deer friends whom she condescends to tell her real story. Some have mocked her but those who can trust her, believe her and her actual story. For none have seen the actual age of magick from where Peepo comes; the mind is unable to digest what it has not perceived. Peepo lives the life of a normal girl, living in normal circumstances, with normal emotions such as fear, dismay and attachment. She acts as a normal college student, in a normal college and performs normally but deep inside her heart still lies smouldering, the actual Popli who shall one day rule the earth by her invincible arm.
I speak of the past. When dwelt giants, elves, sorcerers, spirits, monsters and the like, out in the open, to the common knowledge of the dullest race seen by the sun: mankind. And then ruled Popli with all her might, and all her wisdom, and commanded the lands, and the people, and everything except that, and the trees and the heavens and everything except that, that I can't tell in this hurry. She wielded her sword with such passion and fury, everything came to shudder and even lightning couldn't match her glory. And then she did the justice, she was the police and she was jury. Of Popli's descent, this is the story.
Popli had conquered innumerable lands and enough seas fit for a million giants to bathe for millions of years. She, through her valor and her invincible arm, crushed armies as strong as mountains and bought man and beast to her feet. But the vicissitudes of life show one's eyes what no magical eye has ever descried. It was during the war of Tyreelnioutrs that whilst Popli chopped off the head of several thousand giants, for it were the race of the giants she fought against now; it so happened that she incurred a wound on her arm and that very lesion lost her more blood than she could have well imagined, causing her to flee. As a temporary refuge she considered a small cave nearby the battle-ground and went inside to mend her broken flesh.
By the ill-fortune that the heavens had promised her, that happened to be the abode of the grim, vile and unfriendly Hondoleen. Hondoleen was as special as the visitor in his cave, for he was not just a sorcerer but the king of kings of sorcerers whose powers outstripped any creature within three galaxies of his existence. And power breeds evil so Hondoleen's wicked ways were known in the fourteen worlds. He sat in deep meditation but was stirred by some noise and smell of blood. As he lifted his sinister eyelids, light set forth his eyes the greatest Princess to be seen. Why O lowly creature dos't thou chooses't to perturb me with thy disdainful presence in my solitary dwelling, exclaimed Holdoleen with rage at being disturbed. But might one be the greatest sorcerer or deadliest knight on the face of the earth, one had no business of abusing the honor of so great a princess such as Popli. Her bloody sword swished out of her scabbard and her blood boiled with rage as she cry'd, Thou art a fool to talk such to me O base mortal and brandished her sword in front of his sullen face.
Seeing this offensive act Hondoleen got so slighted that he resolved to use his most powerful and complicated sorcery against Popli. O wretched princess, thou prides't thyself with all your atchievements. Now see what thou shalt suffer, bellowed Hondoleen and with the cast of a wicked spell, Popli broke all abetting clock-hands, left all of them behind, and found herself standing in the middle of Ring Road, with her wounded arm, and her sword as sharp as sharp can be, stained with blood of a thousand giants, and a million eyes set on her, and innumerable small crawling creatures without feet but wheels bellowing unpleasant noises and strangely dressed men screaming out of the creatures' heads. Popli was terrified and froze with fear. See the play of fate, she who had been cross with fear since her childhood was seized by pangs of it now for she was completely ignorant of her surroundings.
Hondoleen had been mighty successful. He had sent her to the 21st century where she knew no one and none knew her heroic endeavours. From the time of the innocent giants, she had been thrown into the age of cruel humanity. Put into an asylum for speaking the truth, Popli learned the new ways of the world around her. It indeed took her time to know and understand what had been done to her, but now everything is normal. But her valor needed space to vent.
She changed her name to Peepo for Popli sounded very weird, and lives quietly a fake life of a normal human. But sets out on errants from time to time, secretly, with the help of her sword (and a Magnum FF5i she has acquired) to save the face of the earth from miscreants, ill-doers, giants and other wretched entities. Though no one knows of her virtuous deeds except some deer friends whom she condescends to tell her real story. Some have mocked her but those who can trust her, believe her and her actual story. For none have seen the actual age of magick from where Peepo comes; the mind is unable to digest what it has not perceived. Peepo lives the life of a normal girl, living in normal circumstances, with normal emotions such as fear, dismay and attachment. She acts as a normal college student, in a normal college and performs normally but deep inside her heart still lies smouldering, the actual Popli who shall one day rule the earth by her invincible arm.
Addictions, Predictions, Benedictions and Attempted Valedictions...
6 zubaans opened Thus spake Kaala Kavva at 9:25 AMAlright! I admit I'm addicted; irreparably addicted. It's actually hopelessly too, but saying that, I guess, would be plagiarism and plagiarism is a tool I seldom use (and that too happens only in practical reports which I no more have to make! Yahu!!) . I'm addicted to alcohol and I've never touched a bottle. And liquor isn't sold in tetra-packs. A coffeetotaler(new version of teetotaler) says this ironical statement. There are truths in truths contained like an onion. The greatest being, of things a many, I feel like a minion. (The baniya at the baniya shop wears dhoti banyan.)
Let me now shed (jhaad as they say in hindi) some philosophy. Animals, they say, are unconscious, below the mundane. There does exist a higher level of consciousness which is much above all unneeded affairs. The unconscious are happy, the fully conscious are in bliss. Man, the one in the middle has all the problems to himself. Hence in an attempt to go beneath their level, humans consume alcohol. I think it stupid.
But how so ever stupid I may think it, I remain a first-degree hypocrite. (May I have a big hand of applause please (for dinner obviously)). Indulging in people is again alcohol. People are alcohol and like alcohol they make you forget your worries, weaknesses and wails. Eating, drinking, laughing, sleeping - the fool has so much to do, so much to indulge himself, so much enjoy and enjoy for ignorance is bliss. That (gobi ka) fool am I. (Applaud! Why do I have to remind you? ).
And I'm so hooked to people and people's talks, I can't rest myself. My prediction is that if I continue on the same path, I shall be led nowhere except nowhere. Bereft of contentment, devoid of joy, senescing, once in peace and tence ruffled, I see myself some years down the line, in the exact state as I am now, taking one step ahead and another back, tiring, exhausting, breaking and reaching right here, nowhere. (Hey no applaud now please, that was mighty serious).
I desire myself, my old self, rather pine for my old self instead of pining for other people and languishing myself. I want to be what I was at a time of yore. I was and I have descended ever since. I want to rise, whatever be the price, potatoes or rice, I want to win the prize. (How stupid that was). I'm a complete forgiver, five giver rather, when it comes to myself. I have forgiven myself for everything and practiced categorical forbearance towards my evil intentions. I pray to get a better self. What else can I do?
Addicted I am. I knew it long time back, so I thought of healing the bloody thing if you'd agree on calling it a disease in the first bloody place. Talking of addictions and stupors, there are many types of them, you know. Opium stupor, did you know, wears off when one takes a cold water bath. So I sat in front of the PC and asked if I wanted to Gtalk. My mind said 'I do', in the same fashion as they say in the Hollywood movie weddings. Have you noticed one thing, by the way, that whenever the bride or the groom answer the priest by saying 'I Do' they don't even bloody look at him. They're so engrossed in themselves, those impatient freaks, they can't pay a handful of respect to the vicar. How do I care ? So I wanted to Gtalk. I went straight to the bathroom, swwwoooosh and steeped myself wet with a shower of chilly cold water! My 38"(last time I measured) chest heaved out of the coldness of the contact and I thought to myself, 'Yes! I've outstripped myself'. But later I realized I'd only stripped myself for the bath and nothing more. I came back (with clothes) and still wanted to Gtalk. Damn everything. This addiction is worse than opium.
Then you have the hangovers and the withdrawal symptoms, and they're horrible. Let me not relate them to you now. What remains the pith, is I don't want any kith, and that people are a myth. (And with addictions, life is shith). Let me now resolve, to rise above all this or at least to want to rise above in the first place. I have decided to be detached, impassionate, unaffected. Oh yeah baby! Bring it on! I'm ready for you, I'm like daddy for you, mark my tone, too heady for you!
Enough being said I shall consider it best to leave the kind reader at this point to wander in his/her imaginations about what state I be in now and later return to his/her work diligently. And even if you don't, how do I care.
Let me now shed (jhaad as they say in hindi) some philosophy. Animals, they say, are unconscious, below the mundane. There does exist a higher level of consciousness which is much above all unneeded affairs. The unconscious are happy, the fully conscious are in bliss. Man, the one in the middle has all the problems to himself. Hence in an attempt to go beneath their level, humans consume alcohol. I think it stupid.
But how so ever stupid I may think it, I remain a first-degree hypocrite. (May I have a big hand of applause please (for dinner obviously)). Indulging in people is again alcohol. People are alcohol and like alcohol they make you forget your worries, weaknesses and wails. Eating, drinking, laughing, sleeping - the fool has so much to do, so much to indulge himself, so much enjoy and enjoy for ignorance is bliss. That (gobi ka) fool am I. (Applaud! Why do I have to remind you? ).
And I'm so hooked to people and people's talks, I can't rest myself. My prediction is that if I continue on the same path, I shall be led nowhere except nowhere. Bereft of contentment, devoid of joy, senescing, once in peace and tence ruffled, I see myself some years down the line, in the exact state as I am now, taking one step ahead and another back, tiring, exhausting, breaking and reaching right here, nowhere. (Hey no applaud now please, that was mighty serious).
I desire myself, my old self, rather pine for my old self instead of pining for other people and languishing myself. I want to be what I was at a time of yore. I was and I have descended ever since. I want to rise, whatever be the price, potatoes or rice, I want to win the prize. (How stupid that was). I'm a complete forgiver, five giver rather, when it comes to myself. I have forgiven myself for everything and practiced categorical forbearance towards my evil intentions. I pray to get a better self. What else can I do?
Addicted I am. I knew it long time back, so I thought of healing the bloody thing if you'd agree on calling it a disease in the first bloody place. Talking of addictions and stupors, there are many types of them, you know. Opium stupor, did you know, wears off when one takes a cold water bath. So I sat in front of the PC and asked if I wanted to Gtalk. My mind said 'I do', in the same fashion as they say in the Hollywood movie weddings. Have you noticed one thing, by the way, that whenever the bride or the groom answer the priest by saying 'I Do' they don't even bloody look at him. They're so engrossed in themselves, those impatient freaks, they can't pay a handful of respect to the vicar. How do I care ? So I wanted to Gtalk. I went straight to the bathroom, swwwoooosh and steeped myself wet with a shower of chilly cold water! My 38"(last time I measured) chest heaved out of the coldness of the contact and I thought to myself, 'Yes! I've outstripped myself'. But later I realized I'd only stripped myself for the bath and nothing more. I came back (with clothes) and still wanted to Gtalk. Damn everything. This addiction is worse than opium.
Then you have the hangovers and the withdrawal symptoms, and they're horrible. Let me not relate them to you now. What remains the pith, is I don't want any kith, and that people are a myth. (And with addictions, life is shith). Let me now resolve, to rise above all this or at least to want to rise above in the first place. I have decided to be detached, impassionate, unaffected. Oh yeah baby! Bring it on! I'm ready for you, I'm like daddy for you, mark my tone, too heady for you!
Enough being said I shall consider it best to leave the kind reader at this point to wander in his/her imaginations about what state I be in now and later return to his/her work diligently. And even if you don't, how do I care.
Ze Labils - humor, I me myself, people
How to irritate people and lose friends: An introduction
15 zubaans opened Thus spake Kaala Kavva at 10:23 AMYour urges that have unfortunately (for you) caused you to peruse this harmless-looking piece of text shall be the cause of more harm than you would have thought an innocent and harmless-looking piece of text could have in the first place. This elongated paragraph was written partly out of an urge to write and more partly to warn you that the writer or the written takes no responsibility of the consequences that might / might not happen to happen.
As you might have guessed from the topic you are about to meet a sermon and then you might need a surgeon. Okay just kidding, no surgeons required. Getting on with what is most desirable at this instant, let me start by asserting that you take the first step in the world of irritating people when you actually take your first step. Yes. It has been chemically, psychologically, statistically (and all other allies taken) proven that the ability to irritate and annoy is inherent. Remember how you irritated your parents by excreting at your convenience.. Ah! What comfortable days. Well, a clever mind would argue that we still do that at our convenience but clever minds can go to hell. Rejoice, you can, after hearing that you too are intrinsically able to irritate others but the truth is that most people are wonted to such patterns of irritations and hence to step out of the box, you must think out of the box. If you have asked yourself which box after reading the previous line, you are a natural. But in other cases too, development is possible, so there is less need to worry.
The best way to bother someone is by asking questions. Ask ask ask till you bask. Prepare a series of random questions and learn them by heart. Fire them at every friend you see. These questions must range from 'How are you' to 'Why didn't the subspace field harmonically ultra cogentic engines fail while the Apollo 15 took off'. If the person in any way tries to suggest that no Apollo 15 is in existence yet, be sure to ask Why, and keep in store a corresponding Why for every answer the patient of a man/woman has for you. With constant practice you shall be avoided. But there is no time for repose, this is just the beginning.
There are a couple of other methods to chafe people and the best one is to attack the ego. Wait, didn't I say the best was to ask questions? Oh whatever, just read don't ask questions. Attack the ego, I say. Sermonize as much as you can. Tell them always that the best path to take in life is a path of integrity, honesty and virtue. Make sure you yourself are atleast a hundred miles away from that path. Great. Ask people that did they embrace the path of integrity, honesty and virtue or are they still ignoble in their outlook every time you meet them. Make sure this is asked in public. You shall again be avoided.
Once you are avoided, beg for forgiveness. This, I know it is tough, but it is worth it. Beg for forgiveness promising you have changed and act normal for a few days. After these days of silence, start boasting of your integrity, honesty and virtue. Start talking about how embracing the path of integrity, honesty and virtue is the most difficult thing to do. Moreover, keep repeating integrity, honesty and virtue in every aspect and conversation. Kindle an aversion for integrity, honesty and virtue in the other one's heart by repeating about integrity, honesty and virtue atleast a million times a day. When the person cannot listen about integrity, honesty and virtue, chide him/her for talking such about integrity, honesty and virtue. For integrity, honesty and virtue are the basis of integrity, honesty and virtue and without integrity, honesty and virtue what good is a person. It is only integrity, honesty and virtue that differentiate us from the beast, integrity, honesty and virtue that term us human and only integrity, honesty and virtue that are responsible for adding Kind to Man, hence making integrity, honesty and virtue a necessity for ManKind as a hole.
Your friend now has two options. Either to run away from you or to actually imbibe integrity, honesty and virtue. Most sane individuals would choose the former and shun integrity, honesty and virtue, making their lives pits of shit, because without integrity, honesty and virtue that is what a human life is, a pit of shit.
Once you have elicited complete, categorical and absolute hate from the person concerned owing to your stubbornness, you can be sure you have annoyed him/her enough and that should be the point of satisfaction. Although, if you still don't feel satisfied, either embrace integrity, honesty and virtue or keep asking yourself why you are still not satisfied until you actually embrace integrity, honesty and virtue.
Now that you have lost one friend, you can move on to make others solely for the purpose of annoying and losing them, thus assimilating integrity, honesty and virtue in the process.
Statutory Warning: Reading this post might be injurious to your mental health.
As you might have guessed from the topic you are about to meet a sermon and then you might need a surgeon. Okay just kidding, no surgeons required. Getting on with what is most desirable at this instant, let me start by asserting that you take the first step in the world of irritating people when you actually take your first step. Yes. It has been chemically, psychologically, statistically (and all other allies taken) proven that the ability to irritate and annoy is inherent. Remember how you irritated your parents by excreting at your convenience.. Ah! What comfortable days. Well, a clever mind would argue that we still do that at our convenience but clever minds can go to hell. Rejoice, you can, after hearing that you too are intrinsically able to irritate others but the truth is that most people are wonted to such patterns of irritations and hence to step out of the box, you must think out of the box. If you have asked yourself which box after reading the previous line, you are a natural. But in other cases too, development is possible, so there is less need to worry.
The best way to bother someone is by asking questions. Ask ask ask till you bask. Prepare a series of random questions and learn them by heart. Fire them at every friend you see. These questions must range from 'How are you' to 'Why didn't the subspace field harmonically ultra cogentic engines fail while the Apollo 15 took off'. If the person in any way tries to suggest that no Apollo 15 is in existence yet, be sure to ask Why, and keep in store a corresponding Why for every answer the patient of a man/woman has for you. With constant practice you shall be avoided. But there is no time for repose, this is just the beginning.
There are a couple of other methods to chafe people and the best one is to attack the ego. Wait, didn't I say the best was to ask questions? Oh whatever, just read don't ask questions. Attack the ego, I say. Sermonize as much as you can. Tell them always that the best path to take in life is a path of integrity, honesty and virtue. Make sure you yourself are atleast a hundred miles away from that path. Great. Ask people that did they embrace the path of integrity, honesty and virtue or are they still ignoble in their outlook every time you meet them. Make sure this is asked in public. You shall again be avoided.
Once you are avoided, beg for forgiveness. This, I know it is tough, but it is worth it. Beg for forgiveness promising you have changed and act normal for a few days. After these days of silence, start boasting of your integrity, honesty and virtue. Start talking about how embracing the path of integrity, honesty and virtue is the most difficult thing to do. Moreover, keep repeating integrity, honesty and virtue in every aspect and conversation. Kindle an aversion for integrity, honesty and virtue in the other one's heart by repeating about integrity, honesty and virtue atleast a million times a day. When the person cannot listen about integrity, honesty and virtue, chide him/her for talking such about integrity, honesty and virtue. For integrity, honesty and virtue are the basis of integrity, honesty and virtue and without integrity, honesty and virtue what good is a person. It is only integrity, honesty and virtue that differentiate us from the beast, integrity, honesty and virtue that term us human and only integrity, honesty and virtue that are responsible for adding Kind to Man, hence making integrity, honesty and virtue a necessity for ManKind as a hole.
Your friend now has two options. Either to run away from you or to actually imbibe integrity, honesty and virtue. Most sane individuals would choose the former and shun integrity, honesty and virtue, making their lives pits of shit, because without integrity, honesty and virtue that is what a human life is, a pit of shit.
Once you have elicited complete, categorical and absolute hate from the person concerned owing to your stubbornness, you can be sure you have annoyed him/her enough and that should be the point of satisfaction. Although, if you still don't feel satisfied, either embrace integrity, honesty and virtue or keep asking yourself why you are still not satisfied until you actually embrace integrity, honesty and virtue.
Now that you have lost one friend, you can move on to make others solely for the purpose of annoying and losing them, thus assimilating integrity, honesty and virtue in the process.
Statutory Warning: Reading this post might be injurious to your mental health.
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